Some Things Talking Can't Fix
by Theralion
Summary: As Saki's last-ditch attempt to reach out to her sister fails, she realizes that this problem cannot be solved with words alone.


**Some Things Talking Can't Fix**

I walked up to the door of the Tokyo apartment where my mother and sister were now living. While our parents were now living separately, they had agreed to give each other their respective addresses and contact information, in the event anything happened that the other would need to know about.

The tentative agreement between my mom and my dad was an arrangement that seemed odd to some- would each of our parents willingly sacrifice custody of one of their daughters to gain exclusive custody of the other? But just as a rift had formed between both of them, one formed between my sister and I. I think, in light of that, they may have reasoned that just as it might be best if they no longer lived under the same roof, it might be best for their daughters to do the same.

Dad- the parent I was staying with- made it clear that this was a separation and he and Mom were not yet divorced; I understood the difference between those. But he also warned me that there was little hope of him and Mom reconciling; clearly, their relationship had deteriorated greatly if they had decided to resort to this, and it was unlikely to get better now that they were not talking any more than necessary.

I was hesitant to accept that, though, and even less willing to accept the end of the bond between my sister and I. Mom and Dad could end their marriage, even if doing so was less than completely acceptable in our society. But would that, or the events that had preceded it, mean that their two daughters would stop being sisters? Even now, I remembered the good times we had as a family, such as the time I talked about Rinshan Kaihou with my sister, who told me that my name was a reference to my inner strength. Were those times necessarily gone forever?

Determined to find the answer, and to do what I could to reconcile with my sister, I pressed the buzzer.

"Miyanaga residence," Mom's voice came from the speaker.

"Mom, this is Saki," I said.

"Saki? This is a surprise," Mom said as she opened the door to the apartment.

"Sorry for the unannounced visit, Mom," I said. "I was hoping I could speak with my sister, since I don't know when I'll get the chance again."

"She's in her room," Mom said, then called out. "Teru? Saki would like to talk with you."

My sister walked out of her room and looked at me coldly. She did not greet me at all; there was not a friendly "Hi, Saki, how are you?", nor a surprised "Saki, why did you come?" nor even a rude "What is it?", merely silence.

"Um… hi… Onee-chan," I said. I am a somewhat timid person by nature, and that aspect of myself was only exacerbated by my nervousness over how this encounter would play out. The fact that in these first few seconds, nothing had happened to disprove that nervousness only made things worse.

My sister said nothing. It thus fell on me to speak next, although I struggled to find words that would elicit the intended reaction when my greeting had failed. I glanced at Mom, who was at a loss for words, before turning back to my sister.

"I wanted to let you know how sorry I am," I said. "And…"

My sister gave no response, remaining silent with the same expression on her face. By contrast, my voice began to quaver, and I began to tremble. My worst fears had become reality- she was no more receptive to my attempts at reconciliation than she was the day she and Mom had moved out of our house.

"Onee-chan?" I said hesitantly.

My sister then turned around and walked away, going into her room and shutting the door behind her. She had been in my life from the very beginning, and I had been in hers for almost as long as she could remember. But now, she regarded me with cold indifference, almost like she had only just met me, and saw my very presence as nothing more than a nuisance.

Mom sighed resignedly, having watched the entire encounter.

"I'm sorry, Saki," Mom said. "What happened was hard on all of us, especially Teru. As much as I would like the two of you to mend fences, I can't force her to open up to you, not in light of how things are between your father and I, nor can I make her forget what had happened any more than I can forget it myself."

I nodded, unwilling to contest that point. What had happened had indeed deeply affected all of us. But I had a different perspective on it. So much had been lost already- did that also have to result in the dissolution of our family?

"I know," I said, understanding full well my sister's feelings. "It's just, I feel that maybe if I talk to her, I could potentially get her to understand how I feel- that I still love her and you, Mom, and don't want things to end this way."

"The unfortunate truth, Saki, is that there are some things talking can't fix," Mom said, clearly referencing her relationship with my father, although neither of my parents were willing to badmouth the other in front of me. "I may not see much of you from here on out, so I'm sorry that this might be some of the last advice I give to you as a mother."

I couldn't bring myself to accept what Mom was saying to me- that there was likely no hope at all of salvaging our family relationship. But as I looked at the door my sister had shut, which seemed like the barred gate of a castle that closed itself off from intruders and guests, I realized that there was nothing I could do, here, today, to remedy this problem. What I had tried so far had failed, and nothing more came to mind.

"I don't want to think that it's the last time I'll see or talk to either you or my sister, Mom, especially not if I part with my sister while on bad terms with her," I said. "But my sister doesn't seem ready to talk, at least not yet, so I don't think there's anything else I can do now, or much point in staying around."

"I'm sorry you didn't quite get what you came here for, Saki," Mom said. "Will you be able to get back home?"

"I can," I said. "I made the preparations for coming here and returning by myself."

"I see; that's good," Mom said, oddly looking as though she expected me to say what I had, possibly realizing that this was not Dad's idea at all.

"I'll be off then," I said. "Goodbye, Mom, I hope to hear from you again some time."

"Goodbye, Saki," Mom said, as I saw myself out. Just before I shut the door behind me, I saw what looked like an expression of helplessness on Mom's face for a moment.

The Mom I spoke with that day was very different from the one who had sat at the mahjong table, punishing my victories by taking away my money or candy, and "rewarding" my victories with anger, and the same went for Dad. Both Mom and Dad seemed to regret how things turned out, but said they believed that they'd grown too far apart for reconciliation to be possible. Perhaps it was true, or maybe their belief was making it so. But whatever the reason may be, if they didn't talk, nothing would change. I couldn't accept things the way they were, but I couldn't do anything to change them; it was as if a locked door barred my way not only into the room I hoped to enter, but the key I could use to unlock it.

But then I recalled one of my conversations with my sister when we were younger. She had described mahjong as more than just a game, but an expression of oneself. The way one played could reveal much about them- their personality, what they hoped to accomplish, how far they were willing to go to do it, and much more- to those who were able to see it.

It would take some time for me to come to the realization, but eventually, I made a resolution. I would face my sister on the field of the inter-high mahjong tournament, and would convince her to begin talking with me again. Even if she intended to shut me out of her life and her heart, I would show her what she meant to me, and my desire to remind my family of what we all once meant to each other. The energy I had put toward avoiding first or last place with a score of +/- 0 would be dedicated toward winning, as many times as necessary and with as high of a score as possible, until I could face my sister. The game that had given me so many bad memories of bitter contests between family members would one day be the way for me to reunite the family.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Thank you for reading this fic.

This was intended to illustrate Saki's last encounter with Teru, as she describes in Chapter 5, as well as why she's determined to reach out to Teru through mahjong.

**Nodoka**: I see... so your mother and sister are in Tokyo...

**Saki**: Yeah... it's not a divorce yet, but... One time, I went alone to go see them. My sister wouldn't say a single word to me. She's definitely still angry at me. But if it's mahjong... if it's through playing mahjong, I'll be able to talk with her!

The "Solomon Divorce" that separates the Miyanaga sisters seems to be an odd case, and I'm curious as to why a family would go for such an arrangement, or why the parents chose their respective daughters. Then again, it could be possible that Saki and Teru's strained relationship played a part.

Interestingly enough, Saki's father doesn't display any of the kinds of behavior that he apparently did at the mahjong table in the only scene with dialogue that he has, and appears to have given up on the game, hence his desire to sell the table. Assuming Saki is telling the truth about her family (as she most likely, is although mahjong most likely wasn't the main cause that shattered her family), it could be interpreted as suggesting that he regrets his actions back then.

There is an implied tragedy in the Miyanaga family's past, seemingly involving a girl around Saki's age who appeared to be wheelchair bound, and might have been hospitalized or died in a fire, although the possibility of her drowning exists as well. Since in that montage, Teru appears to be wearing a mourning dress, it's implied that the girl is dead and that Teru was deeply affected by her passing, possibly blaming Saki.

Saki may come off as a bit of a "Love Martyr", still on reasonably good terms with the parents who treated her badly in their mahjong games, and willing to reach out to the sister who denies her existence, but it's possible that there were happier times and fond memories, and Saki persists in the understandable hope of wanting to go back to those times. Teru also seems to come off as quite cruel in how she treats her sister, but that could be because we see things from Saki's perspective, without seeing Teru's feelings on this or her reasons for acting this way. I'm personally most curious about what exactly happened to cause the Miyanaga family to split apart, and why it altered Teru's relationship with Saki.

I may write a sequel to this about Saki's reaction to being disowned by Teru, as well as one in the future that deals with the truth behind the Miyanaga family's falling apart.


End file.
